


voice of reason

by areyouabadwolf2



Series: sins of the father [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Archie needs advice, Baby!Bughead, Betty dances for Jug, Caramel the cat - Freeform, Core Four, Dom Jughead Jones, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Impending fatherhood, Introspective Jughead, Jug and Betty get a pet, Jughead Jones Loves Betty Cooper, Jughead Jones does not believe in fancy coffee, Jughead Jones is Not Asexual, Light Choking, Married Life, Married!Bughead, Moving In Together, Multiple One-Shots, Puppy Love, Sexting, Smut, Tags will probably be added, bughead - Freeform, f.p. goes to prison, sort of canon compliant, teenagers being teenagers, this is what happens while he's gone, timeline jumps around
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-04 13:20:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14593884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyouabadwolf2/pseuds/areyouabadwolf2
Summary: f.p. was arrested for the murder of jason blossom. while he pays for his sins, life continues in riverdale. for his son, life changes considerably while his father is gone. there's a girl, there's a home, there's a future. there's a story to tell here.OR, the filler stories to my au piece 'when you can't find the words.' mostly jughead centric, featuring many of the major characters from the show. this will be non-linear one-shots set over the course of nine years; it is mostly canon compliant through season one, but with the major changes being f.p. actually serving time, jughead going to live with the andrew's, and some delay in the development of bughead (so i can explore it more!)***rating up due to smut***





	1. the autumn of 2010

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! I'm back already! Testing the waters with this new idea, I'm honestly unsure of how this will go. So, if you haven't read 'when you can't find the words' PLEASE DO! this will make so much more sense for you, and its a fun story. 
> 
> This first shot is from the beginning of the piece, in the time immediately after F.P.'s arrest. Hope you enjoy!

 

**_09.29.2010_ **

****

“Arch! Juggie!” Betty jogs down her porch steps quickly to catch up with her two friends who are just now passing in front of her house.

 

They turn towards her, and she wonders why they look so serious on a Wednesday morning. Usually she can always count on the two of them to be cracking jokes. Betty smiles as they start walking towards Riverdale High, trying to lift the silence they’re in. For a moment, anxiety curls through her stomach at the thought they may have been talking about _her._

 

She grips the straps of her backpack, “So Jug, ready for me to edit that piece about the pep rally? Weatherbee wants us to go to print Friday now, something about hyping up the student body before the game.”

 

“ _Shit!_ God _fucking_ dammit _.”_ Jughead stops abruptly and turns away, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He kicks at a trashcan, punctuating its capsizing with another well-placed _fuck._ It’s then that his companions finally stop walking, now several feet ahead of him. Betty’s visibly startled by his overreaction.

 

Archie is immediately beside him, squeezing his shoulder, “Hey, Jug, it’s fine, dude. It’s just an article.”

 

“It’s not, Archie. I should’ve remembered, and now the paper--“

 

“Don’t worry about the article, Juggie,” Betty is beside him before she realizes she’d moved, stopping to overturn the forgotten receptacle bin. “I can take care of it. What’s wrong? Because it’s obviously _not_ about the paper. And don’t say it’s nothing, I can tell the two of you aren’t telling me something.”

 

Archie shifts uncertainly, his eyes sliding to Jughead’s face, but the dark-haired boy just sets his jaw. Arms crossed, he turns away again. Archie sighs and his shoulders sag before looking back to Betty.

 

“Jug’s dad was arrested by the Sheriff last night.”

 

“ _Archie!”_

Betty’s mouth opens and closes as the two boys bicker, barely registering that they’ve begun walking again. “What, Jug? You think she won’t see you at my house? You think Mrs. Cooper won’t bug Betty for some details when the Registar covers the trial? C’mon, Jughead, she should know, she’s _Betty.”_

“That doesn’t…this is bad enough that _you_ know. Soon, it’ll be Veronica, and then Kevin, and then I may as well just print a personal statement about it in the Blue & Gold,” Jughead snaps. Betty is not following any of their exchange, getting momentarily caught on how Archie said her name, like it carried a different meaning to the two of them.

 

She shakes the thought off, “Arrested for what?”

 

They don’t hear her. “Jug, honestly, Kevin probably already knows.”

 

“That’s not-that’s not the point, Arch,” Jughead rolls his eyes, before taking a scolding tone. “The point _is_ that what happened to my--“

 

“ _Arrested for what?”_ Her voice is sharp, a little shrill. Concerning enough that not only do the boys look at her, but so do a few of their peers as they slow down in front of the school.

 

They share a knowing look, before Jughead swallows hard. He steps a little closer; she thinks he’s going to reach for her hand but then he doesn’t. His eyes look a little sad, like he’s concerned for _her._ “Betty…”

 

“Arrested for what, Juggie?” This time it’s a shaky whisper.

 

“For the murder of Jason Blossom.”

 

**_10.06.2010._ **

 

A lot has changed in a week.

 

F.P. Jones is arraigned for the murder of the golden boy of Riverdale. Betty expects a barrage of questions from her mother, but she’s uncharacteristically quiet when Betty tells her.

 

School becomes a hellish place as Jughead goes from social pariah to having a target on his back. From the football team to Cheryl Blossom herself, he’s shown almost no mercy. But Archie and Betty, and Veronica by default, remain by his side, never really giving him an unsupervised moment. He spends a lot of time in the B&G office to avoid the cruelty of his peers. Betty quickly takes to seeking out the quiet moments with him there.

 

It’s over their desks that he opens up to her. Jughead is _insistent_ that something doesn’t add up; his dad might be involved, but he’s not a killer. The whole situation has made Betty perpetually nauseous, thoughts of her pregnant sister at home cross her mind every time she gazes at their murder board. She just can’t fathom the _why_ of it all.

 

“I don’t know, Juggie,” her ponytail swishes as she shakes her head. “He confessed.”

 

“But what if he didn’t have a choice?”

 

She opens her mouth to press him for more, the journalist in her curious. But before she can say anything, he’s standing up and hurriedly collecting his stuff. “You know what, Betts? Forget I said anything.”

 

“No, Jug, wait!” But he doesn’t stop as he heads for the door. She drops her head in her hands, frustrated at her inability to help her friend. She _wants_ to believe Jughead; for both him and her sister’s sake. But they need proof. She wonders for the millionth time if they’re too close to this series of events to see it clearly.

 

She spends a few more moments staring blankly at the murder board before something catches her eye. _That’s it._

\--

 

Its hours later, entirely too late in the night to be calling a boy. But it’s _Jughead._ Besides, it’s for his own good.

 

“Betts?” He sounds confused.

 

“Come over.”

 

“What?” Now he just sounds nervous.

 

She sighs, “Jughead, _come over._ There’s a ladder by the shed, I have to tell you something.”

 

Silence. “A ladder?”

 

“Yes, for the window! Now hurry.” She hangs up without giving him a chance to say no.

 

At the Andrews’ house, Jughead slides his phone uncertainly into his pocket as he stands. Archie glances up quickly from the video game on the screen, “What was that, Jug?”

 

“Uh, Betty. She wants me to come over.” He moves towards the door, but Archie suddenly stops him. He’s got a toothy smirk and a sparkle in his eye.

 

“Betty wants you to come over at--” He glances at his phone, “At 11:06 at night? On your birthday? Dude, I’m telling you, she’s into you.”

 

Jughead wishes he’d disintegrate. “Archie, she just said she has something to tell me. Besides she doesn’t even know it’s my birthday. _Not_ that any of that implies she’d ever like me. Which is a ridiculous idea, by the way; you should really leave the conspiracy theories to me”

 

“She has to ‘tell you something?’ In the middle of the night? _In her bedroom?_ ”

 

“Betty’s not like that, and you know it, Arch.” He glares at his best friend-turned-roommate.

 

Archie claps him on the shoulder with a cheeky grin, “She _could be,_ Juggie. For you.”

 

Jughead is out the door before his whole face burns with embarrassment.

 

\--

 

Betty’s already pushing up the window when Jughead’s beanie clad head pops up from where he’s ascending the ladder. They grip each other’s forearms as he gracelessly slips into her dark room.

 

With Archie’s insinuating thoughts still fresh in his mind, he chooses not to acknowledge her pink polka-dotted pajama shorts and the loose white sleep shirt. He’s pretty sure she’s forgoing a bra at the moment, and he stops himself from letting his gaze slip from her face to confirm. “What’s up, Betts?”

 

“You were right, Jug.”

 

“I’m right about a lot of things,” he pauses, then narrows his eyes playfully. “Which one are you talking about?”

 

She steps a little closer, her delicate fingers coming to brush his bicep, “About your dad.”

 

He thinks he’d topple over if she hadn’t steadied her grip on him. She continues, “I don’t think he killed Jason, but…Jughead, he _was_ involved. I don’t know why yet, but I think I know _who.”_

 

“You know who killed Jason Blossom?” His throat is dry. This is big. _Huge._

 

“If I’m right, I know how to prove it,” Betty blinks up at him. “ _And_ how to prove your dad’s not the real killer. Juggie, I’m taking this to the Sheriff first thing tomorrow. I spent all day putting the pieces together. I didn’t—I didn’t want to tell you, in case I was wrong. But I don’t think I’m wrong, Jug.”

 

Jughead nods. “Okay. Okay, fill me in, Betts.”

 

So, she does.

 

**_10.07.2010_ **

 

Alice Cooper is _mad._

 

She’s not sure what she’s angriest about. It could be the fact that her teenage daughter felt it wise to insert herself into the middle of a _murder investigation_ by barging into the police station, insisting the Sheriff was wrong. It’s just Betty’s luck that she chose the morning her mother went to the station for a statement on the Jones’ arrest. An awkward encounter, to say the least.

 

Or, it could be the fact that hours prior to that, Alice had opened her daughter’s bedroom door promptly at 6:35 a.m. to _Jughead Jones_ asleep in Betty’s bed. Albeit, fully clothed, above the covers, and a solid 6 inches between the two. Arguably, more embarrassing than their run-in at the Sheriff’s office. Alice was not thrilled with Betty’s choices today.

 

So, Betty was expecting a reckoning when she arrived home, having parted ways with Jughead in front of her house. He’d been endearingly awkward about their accidental sleepover. They really had just fallen asleep after discussing Betty’s discovery; it wasn’t a big deal. It had been an exhausting, emotional week, and they were comfortable enough with one another in the space to relax into sleep.

 

However, between the lecture she received about the dangers of premarital sex (“ _look at your sister, Elizabeth!”)_ and the nervous way Jughead wouldn’t _quite_ meet her eyes, everyone else seems to think it meant something.

 

Steeling for a fight, Betty loses her steam at the sight of Alice sitting wordlessly in front of the T.V. beside Polly. “Mom?”

 

Her mother merely gestures with the remote, turning up the volume on the 6 o’clock news.

 

> _“We are live outside Thornhill, where we’ve been covering breaking news. Maple Mongol, Clifford Blossom, has been found dead by apparent suicide. When asked earlier this afternoon if this is in connection to the recent arrest of F.P. Jones, Jason Blossom’s confessed murderer, Sheriff Keller had this to say.”_

It cuts to the Sheriff addressing the press, “We do not at this time believe this occurred because of the Jones’ confession. In fact, we were tipped off today as to evidence that might implicate Mr. Blossom’s own involvement in Jason’s death, which is how we discovered the body when conducting a search of the property. At this time, there’s been no note found. “

 

A reporter off screen yells out, _“The evidence in the tip, was it recovered?”_

“Yes.”

 

“ _What does this mean for the state’s case against F.P. Jones?”_

There’s a long pause as Sheriff Keller clears his throat, “At this time, the Blossom murder case is still open despite Mr. Jones’ confession.”

 

“ _Sheriff Keller, do you believe F.P. Jones killed Jason Blossom?”_

Betty thinks that she might pass out.

 

“We’re still putting the pieces together. We’ll have more answers in the morning. Thank you.”

 

The report drones on but Betty is distracted by a text from Jughead. At her audible gasp, her mom and her sister look away from the unfolding story. “Elizabeth, what is it?”

 

“Mom, they dropped the murder charge.”

 

Alice is stunned, and Polly beats her to the punch, “Just like that?”

 

Betty nods slowly, thinking about the father of her niece and nephew for a moment, before saying, “Just like that.”

 

**_11.18.2010_ **

**** ****

“Hey, Betts.”

 

Her ponytail whips around so fast the ends smack her in the face. She’s too startled to care. “Jughead Jones, what a surprise.”

 

He gives her an apologetic look as he moves to sit in the desk across from her. He’d been actively avoiding her since she went to Sheriff Keller, and for the life of her, she can’t understand why. She’s gone over _every possible explanation_ , and with minimal help from Archie and Veronica, she’d been at a loss. His dad was getting reduced charges, and had a good chance at a plea deal. F.P. had been cleared for murder thanks to her investigation, but now Jughead barely even looked her way.

 

She can’t help but wonder if it’s because of that night, his birthday. She hadn’t known it was his birthday, but he’d mumbled it to her in the dark across her pink sheets. Nothing had happened, they’d just fallen asleep after talking. Of course, Betty would be lying if she said that that hadn’t affected her. She’s always seen Jughead; it just felt like lately he was _all_ she saw.

 

So, it hurt that he so clearly wanted nothing to do with her. He’d even stopped working on the Blue & Gold, and skipped out on shakes at Pop’s, his spot beside her resoundingly empty. Archie said he was fine, just trying to come to terms with everything. Betty didn’t buy it. She was sure it was about her.

 

She leaned back in her editor’s chair, arms crossed over her chest. Waiting.

 

Betty wills herself not to blush when she notices how Jughead’s eyes drop to the dip of her neckline as her movements frame her cleavage. He can’t seriously be choosing this moment to check her out.

 

“I’m sorry, Betty, for going AWOL on you. Especially after what you did. Archie told me you’d been asking about me, and I just…hope you didn’t think I’m ungrateful. It’s just been a weird few months, and sometimes you’re so…I just appreciate it, Betts. I appreciate you, even if I’m not so good at showing it. I wanna try, to be better about that, um, with you. You should know how much it meant, how much _you_ mean, to me.” Jughead was tracing the grain of the wood in the desk, eyes down as he exposes just a glimpse of his heart.

 

She can’t be mad him, doesn’t even really want to try. Something about his words leaves her feeling inexplicably light. “It’s okay, Juggie. But why didn’t you just say this in the first place?”

 

He meets her eyes then and all the oxygen seems to leave the room. Jughead is looking at her so softly, his eyes totally unguarded. No one has ever looked at Betty like that before, like she’s some type of holy. She thinks if there wasn’t an oak desk between them, there’s a good chance she’d do something stupid, like kiss him.

 

“I just didn’t know how to thank you, Betts.”

 

She reaches for his hand across the table, and butterflies move through her belly when he offers her both of his. “Maybe start with a shake at Pop’s?”

 

He runs a thumb over her knuckles and whispers, “I can do that.”

 

“It’s a date.”

 

Jughead levels her with an almost imperceptible lilt to his smile, his eyes questioningly searching hers, waiting for her to correct herself. She doesn’t. She knows what she said.

 

He lets go of her hands, and stands just as the bell rings. With an amused look, he swipes his thumb across his nose conspiratorially.

 

“I’ll see you after class, Cooper.” 


	2. the 21st of march,  2011

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> W O W. I had no intention of posting so soon, but last nights episode has me reeling. I desperately needed something sweet, and I figured so might you all. Honestly, I just want Jughead Jones to be happy and the writers just want him to suffer. Yeesh. 
> 
> Anyway. Jughead gets to be happy in my story. He also gets lucky! I've never written smut before starting this series, and this is pretty non-explicit, but there nonetheless. Enjoy!

 

**_03.21.2011_ **

****

It happens on a Monday.

 

If you’d have asked Jughead Jones a month ago about the prospect of losing his virginity, he’d have given you a snarl and a line about social constructs.

 

If you asked him _now,_ all he’d have is a dopey ass grin.

 

He walks Betty Cooper home from school, like he does most afternoons she doesn’t have Vixens practice. Despite the shift in their relationship in the last few weeks, they don’t hold hands. Jughead’s not really sure on the parameters of this all; they spend a lot of time together, they kiss, they make no declarations about the change. It’s all very comfortable, if a little unclear. He doesn’t mind though. He knows his affection for her runs deep, and he’s beginning to realize just how much she reciprocates it.

 

So, he walks her home. Betty faces him at the steps, gives a quick look over her shoulder, and then says, “Do you want to come up?”

 

He nods. It’s not unusual to hangout after school together and he wants to be around her.

 

It’s as she’s unlocking the front door that she tells him, “No one’s home.”

 

Jughead follows her up the stairs, a little distracted by the view of her ass in front of him in those jeans. They’ve never been so _alone_ in the Cooper house.

 

Once in her room, he kicks off his boots, his messenger bag, his jacket, and even the beanie. Jughead flops down onto her bed, grey sweater riding up his stomach just a bit.

 

Betty follows slowly, undoing her coat and setting aside her books. “Hey, Betts, I want to ask you something.”

 

“What’s that?” She moves to sit on the bed, back against the headboard.

 

“Betty,” Jughead rolls onto his side and props his head up in his hand. “You’re my girlfriend.”

 

Betty looks bemused and apprehensive. “Is that your question, Jones?”

 

He rolls his eyes and tries to ignore the blush creeping up his neck. “ _No._ Yes, actually. I just…Betty, I’m so out of my element with you. I don’t want to push my luck, but what we’re doing- you are _,_ right _?_ We’re… _dating_? Or, would you want to be, I’m not trying to be presumptuous here, I just honestly have no idea what I’m doing and- “

 

Betty cuts him off with a steady kiss, and he’s momentarily distracted by the feeling of her fingers sliding against his scalp, her tongue pressing against his lip. He tries to follow after her when she pulls away, and she laughs at him with mirth.

 

“Juggie, yes. You’re not pushing any luck here, I _want_ to be your girlfriend. I’m with you, Jug, always.”

 

Jughead is kissing her this time, mouth needy as it moves over hers at her declaration. He can feel her trying not to smile into the kiss, and he nips at her bottom lip to stop her. Betty pushes at his shoulder and he obliges to roll onto his back, hand sliding to her ponytail to keep her close enough to kiss.

 

Then, all of sudden, Betty Cooper is _straddling_ him.

 

Honestly, Jughead is still catching up to the fact that he gets to be her boyfriend, and now he’s reeling at the fact that he gets to have her in his lap.

 

There’s been a lot of kisses over the last month, but nothing like this. Not when they were all alone, having just shared a _moment._ Jughead isn’t really sure he’s ever felt this way before; something intrinsic is guiding him to grip her thigh and to slid a hand under the back of her shirt.

 

Something is guiding Betty too, as she welcomes his tongue in her mouth with a moan. She allows his groping, breaking away from the kiss to sit back and lift the blouse clear over her head.

 

“Oh, my god.” Jughead sits up on his elbows. He thinks if he looked away from her the room would be spinning. Between the way her shift in position placed all her weight right on the bulge in his jeans, or the fact that he was currently eye level with a half-naked Betty Cooper, it’s a miracle he could even form a thought to start with.

 

Betty gives him little time to get his bearings, already moving in to kiss him again. The newly exposed skin is warm through his sweater. Jughead thinks he _growls_ as his hands wander her back, one hand slipping to palm her ass, spurring her to grind against him in the single greatest moment of his life.

 

She’s pushing at the hem of his sweater and they break apart long enough to rid him of it. When she slides against him this time, he takes in a stuttering breath at the sensation of skin on skin. He can only imagine feeling more of it, more of _her._

It’s that thought that has him pushing at her shoulder when she starts to kiss down his neck. “Betty, hey, wait a minute.”

 

She gives him one last nip to the jugular as he groans, and sits up in his lap. With his hands flat on her thighs, he appraises her. _God,_ she looked incredible. Her lips swollen, breathless, little purple bra strap slipping off her shoulder.

 

“What’s wrong?” Betty pulls her hair all the way out of its ponytail, letting it cascade around her shoulders, and he wonders if she felt his dick twitch through his pants just now.

 

“Uh, nothing, this is amazing- _you’re_ amazing, Betts. I just don’t want to…get carried away.”

 

Betty watches his face for a moment, before giving him a loving smile. “It’s okay, Jug, I get it. We shouldn’t rush it, right?”

 

She says this all as she climbs off him. Jughead tries to shift to hide his erection, but it’s impossible. He notices the way she glances down at it, bottom lip in her teeth.

 

“Do I get to ask you a question now, Jug?”

 

“Sure, Betts,” He’s trying desperately to think of all the least sexy things he can to calm himself down, but it’s hard (literally) when she hasn’t even put her shirt back on.

 

Betty watches him for a beat. “Have you thought about it? Having sex…with me?”

 

All he can do is stare at her, trying to figure out how exactly he went from asking her out, to her asking if he thought about fucking her. She keeps talking, “Because I have, Juggie. A lot, actually.”

 

“Are you trying to kill me, Betts?” Any hopes of deep breathing his way out of this hard-on go out the window.

 

Betty bites her lip again. “No, I’m just curious.”

 

“Um, yeah,” He blinks at the ceiling for a moment. “I can’t believe I’m- _yes,_ Betty, of course I’ve thought about it. I’m always thinking about you, sometimes about us _together_...Sorry, that’s- “

 

Jughead’s cut off by the feel of her finger tips dancing across his lower stomach. He’s forgotten he was shirtless in her bed, annoyingly aroused. He swallows hard as her hand moves to tease the band of his jeans. “Do you want to?”

 

“ _Now?”_

Betty nods and scoots closers. “Jug, I think about it a lot, you touching me. I want it to be you, the first time. I want you. Now, and always.”

 

Her hand cups him through his jeans, tentatively stroking over the fabric. They’ve never done this before, no one’s ever touched him before, and he bites out a _fuck, Betts_ at the thought of it being her the first time.

 

“Juggie, I have no idea what I’m doing.”

 

He huffs a laugh and tugs on her forearm to get her to resume her straddling. “Me either. You sure about this, Betty?”

 

“Aren’t you?”

 

“Yeah, baby,” Jughead watches her as she begins to slide his belt out of its loops. “I really am. I want you, too. I’ve always wanted you.”

 

Betty leans over him, emerald eyes searching his. There’s lust there, and another feeling Jughead knows but isn’t ready to say. “So, take me, Juggie.”

 

He does.

 

Jughead tries to commit every detail to memory. Of how she breathed against him, the weight of her breasts in his palms, the way her hand wrapped around him and she shyly asked him to show her how to touch him.

 

Betty is soft in his ear as she guides his shaking hands, encouraging him to caress her center. Her kisses are so sure about what they’re doing, he can’t help but feel confident in this moment with her.

 

It’s _fun,_ which he didn’t expect for some reason. They laugh into each other's mouths when they fumble with the condom Betty procured. He expects quiet, but they talk each other through it. Never in his life has Jughead felt so close to another person, and it isn’t just because he’s inside her.

 

There’s sensations he knew about, but had sorely undershot the actual intensity of. The tightness of her, the wetness, the heat; Jughead’s enamored by the feel of her so intimately against him. He hates the pinch of her face as he settles into her, but loves the way she shifts her hips to take him more comfortably. It is everything and nothing like all those times he’d imagined before.

 

She helped him get her off before the actual penetration, making the initial press of him inside her easier with the added lubrication from her orgasm. Betty doesn’t come again from the sex itself, which was momentarily uncomfortable, but overall exceedingly pleasant.

 

Betty kisses his cheek from where she lays beneath him, as he grips her thigh too tightly over his hip in one hand, the other forearm braced by her head. Jughead can’t help but press into her as he’s overwhelmed by the feeling of coming to her mumbled encouragements.

 

There’s a sharp exhale as he rolls off of her, and he’s not sure who it’s from. Jughead feels a little uncomfortable as they start to come down from the moment, aware that he’s still got the condom on, and that they’re lying totally naked on top of her perfectly made bed.

 

He takes the opportunity to look over at her, realizing he’s never seen her naked before today. Despite what they just did, he hadn’t spent so much time looking at her body as he did feeling it. She’s beautiful, as her breaths even out, legs parted still. Jughead tells her as much.

 

Betty’s laugh is like bells breaking a too-long silence. He loves her, he thinks. If they hadn’t decided to enter into an actual relationship and exchange virginities all in the same hour, he’d have told her as much. Jughead decides it can wait for its own moment. He knows, and he’s pretty sure she does too.

 

There’s shy smiles and a sweet kiss as they shuffle to clean themselves up and redress. Betty asks if he wants to go to Pop’s, and he mentions that he has a chemistry report to fill out, if she wanted to study some. She grins wide at him as she nods her head, redone ponytail bouncing with excitement.

 

They walk together down the steps of the Cooper house, and it doesn’t feel all too different. Except this time, Betty’s hand slips into the crook of his arm as they walk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww. Hope you enjoyed! I may end up posting a lot this next week to cope with the anxiety preceding the finale.


	3. prom night 2012

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty and Jug spend the night together for the first time after prom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, small time jump here. Betty and Jughead get some private, sexy time together. The song is "Ordinary Love" by Sade, and its actually more of a break up song, but its catchy as hell. Hope you enjoy!

**_05.25.2012_ **

****

Betty bites back a nervous, happy giggle as Jughead fumbles with his key. His smile is crooked when his fingers finally turn the lock over, and he runs a hand through his windswept hair. After an evening spent flirting and teasing their way through the junior prom, they were eager to get each other alone.

 

They’d just rolled up to the Jones’ former home on Jughead’s motorcycle, roaring into the trailer park with little regard for the sleeping tenants. Betty had worn the helmet with the inscribed crown, while her reckless lover had felt an immense sense of freedom knowing that for the rest of the night, they were only for each other.

 

Prom had never been something Jughead wanted to do. Even with Betty, he had still been begrudged by the idea of attending the high school dance.

 

Boy, is he glad he was wrong about that one.

 

The dance itself was only tolerable. However, the sight of Betty in her lilac silk gown, hair down, had been flooring. For once, Jughead was speechless. Seeing her like that, it was worth the whole night.

 

Incidentally, he had the same effect on his girlfriend with his suspenders pulled up and bowtie forgotten so he could unbutton a few notches of his dress shirt. Betty had not been shy to whisper in his ear just how much she liked seeing him like this, while they swayed to a slow ballad on the dance floor.

 

It had been _fun_ to rendezvous at Pop’s with Archie and Veronica and recap the night over shakes. A quick stop at the Andrew’s resulted in changing out of their formal wear and into more casual clothes for the rest of the night. Jughead found himself just as appreciative of Betty in her leggings and his flannel, as he was of her in a formal dress. Soon enough, they had parted ways; as Archie and V headed to Reggie’s party, Jughead and Betty climbed on the bike and took off in the opposite direction, to the Southside.

 

Jughead had considered surprising Betty with a night in the trailer. Seeing as her mother thought she’d be at Veronica’s, it wouldn’t have been hard to pull off. But he changed his mind when he realized the only thing better than the surprise of spending their first night together, would be the anticipation of doing so.

 

So, he’d told her after she’d made the floral order for their corsage and buttoner. Her eyes looked perplexed until Jughead explained he had gotten the keys to the trailer, and thought it would be nice to spend a night together after prom. Her wide grin and eager kisses had been all the affirmative he’d needed to spend his Thursday afternoon cleaning the entire place and kicking on the A/C in preparation.

 

Betty had given him a bag to drop off earlier, and he’d stocked up on junk food, classic films, and a bottle of champagne forced on him by Veronica. He’d even went out and bought a new vinyl to play, knowing how much Betty loved the sound of a record.

 

Jughead was _excited._ He’d been dreaming of waking up next to Betty Cooper for the better part of his conscious life. It wasn’t even about sex; although he anticipated that would be delightfully uninhibited with complete privacy and no chance of disruption. It was about the pillow talk after the sex, or cuddling before they get up in the morning, or talking while they get ready for bed. All the moments they can’t share as two seventeen year olds living next door to each other, with watchful guardians and conflicting schedules.

 

So, at this moment, he could feel Betty crowding him into the open doorway. He moved to let her in and slid the deadbolt in behind her, the _click_ finalizing their absolute privacy.

 

“Juggie, all week I’ve been thinking about this; about getting to be here with you alone tonight.” Betty’s green eyes shown up at him when she stepped closer, his back pressing against the door. “I think spending the night here may have just been one of your most brilliant ideas yet.”

 

He steals a kiss quickly. “Is that so, Cooper?”

 

“Sure is, Jones.”

 

Jughead grins as she moves back and tugs on his hand, guiding them to the couch. He’s mesmerized by the way she moves, barely aware of her kicking her tan ankle boots off by the wall. “Jug, will you sit on the couch?”

 

“Why?” He narrows his eyes at her as he tosses his jacket to the armchair, and pulls his beanie from his back pocket to set it aside.

 

Betty stands in front of him as he sits, far enough away he can’t reach out for her. “Because, you planned this night for us, to spend together. And I planned something too.”

 

Before Jughead could inquire, she’s off to the side, a slow beat pouring from the speaker of her phone as she places it on the table. Betty steps into the space between his knees, and his words catch in his throat when her fingers begin to unbutton his shirt she wore.

 

Her body moves ever so slightly, sensually above him. Jughead could feel the blood rushing straight to his dick as she opened the shirt to reveal something fitted, lacy and black. Her pants snapped his attention lower, as she did a sexy wiggle out of them to reveal matching bottoms. He can’t tell if the roll of her body is matching the beat or if the rhythm is all her own, due to the blood roaring in his ears.

 

Then, all of a sudden, his lap was full of a lingerie clad Betty Cooper. With his shirt still on her shoulders, she began to move to the riff of the song in a way that has Jughead curling his toes in his boots. The stillness of the trailer, the love in his eyes, it was empowering as Betty leaned back and moved her body over Jughead’s. His eyes were drinking her in, not getting enough of her in lace and silk as she danced slowly over him.

 

Jughead doesn’t know whose ass he kissed in a previous life to get lucky enough to receive a lap dance from Betty Cooper, but he’ll take it.

 

He moves his hands to touch her, but she shakes her head at him. Betty takes his wrists in her hands and sets them to the side. “You can look, Jug, but no touching.”

 

“Fuck,” He has to tear his eyes from the way her cleavage is pressed up in the bustier, to look at the wicked smile on her face. “That’s just cruel, Betts.”

 

She hums in his ear as she rolls against him. “I think I’m being very _sweet,_ Juggie.”

 

Jughead is about to reply with something sharp, when he finally absorbs the music playing. “Betty… Is this that _Sade_ song?”

 

“Shh, it’s a cover,” Betty sits back and cups her own breasts. “Don’t be pretentious.”

 

He only nods as her fingers squeeze, before traveling to the row of hooks between her cleavage. She’s slow to undo them with one hand, the other skimming along her belly to touch herself over the transparent bottoms. Jughead doesn’t know where to look, until the top comes apart, lace sliding over pert nipples, and she shrugs the flannel and the bra onto the ground.

 

Betty is still grinding to the music against him, the words as smooth as her dancing. _There’s nothing like you and I, baby._

Her breasts sway slightly, and he’s squirming beneath her to touch her bare skin. She pulls at his t-shirt and he’s scrambling to comply. Her hands skim his shoulders, his chest, settling on his waist as she presses flush against him. _Didn’t I give you all that I’ve got to, baby?_

Betty matches the press of their lips to the beat of the song, her tongue coming to meet his in an open mouth kiss. Its hotter than he expects, feels slow and dirty and all theirs. She’s moaning his name into his mouth, and he wants to swallow it whole. _This is no ordinary love._

 

He palms her backside, still clad in lace and silk, to move her over him more roughly. She keens as she moves to pepper kisses down his jawline. Jughead unashamedly looks over her shoulder as he slaps her ass, hard enough to make her gasp. He huffs a laugh as he watches her flesh grow red, “God, you’re so fucking sexy, Betty.”

 

“Thought I told you not to touch.”

 

Jughead is nosing along her collar bone, sucking into a spot he knows she can’t cover with one of her sweaters. “I’d apologize but I’m not sorry.”

 

She grinds against him, this time out of sync to the beat, forgetting her performance. “Make it up to me.”

 

“Yeah?” He’s running his hand down her spine, snapping the band of her panties against her. She nods into his neck. “Okay, stand up.”

 

Betty gives him a questioning look as she scoots off him. Some other song is playing in the background, but he doesn’t care any more about the music. He only cares about the girl standing between his spread legs. Jughead quickly kicks his boots off, before laying back on the couch. He puts his head flat on the seat cushion and lets his ankles hang off the other arm.

 

“Betty?”

 

She clasps her hands and gives him a bemused smile, “Yes, Jughead?”

 

“You’re going to sit on my face.” He’s looking her dead in the eye when he says it. He doesn’t miss the spark of intrigue as her face falls in surprise.

 

Betty steps closer but doesn’t do as he says. “Are you sure? We’ve never-“

 

“Baby,” Jughead pulls her closer by the hip. “If you don’t put you pussy on my mouth in the next thirty seconds, I’m going to make you regret it.”

 

He hears the exhale of breath as she sidles up to him. She reaches over to brace one hand behind his head on the armrest, a knee coming to press into the space by his shoulder. Betty grabs for the back of the couch as she swings her body to hover over his chest. Jughead gives her little time to find her balance, instead curling his arms around her to grasp her ass and pull her the rest of the way over him.

 

One hand snakes back around to press a thumb into the damp spot on the black lace, and Betty rolls into his touch. With a smile, Jughead wastes no more time. He pulls the saddle of her panties to the side, his other hand brings her the few inches more to settle on his face, tongue swiping up into her.

 

Betty’s hesitations disappear as she grinds against him, laughing at his appreciative hum muffled in her cunt. “ _Yes,_ Jughead.”

 

She gets a nip to the inner thigh when she tugs on his hair, and as soon as his first finger slips inside her, she’s coming against his lips. He doesn’t let up though, squeezing her backside and dragging her over him again as he laps at her release.

 

“Jesus, Jug, I’m gonna come again-“

 

He detaches from her enough to growl into her pussy, the vibrations spurring on her next orgasm. “So, do it then.”

 

When he finally let’s her go, she does an awkward, boneless shuffle down his body, until her ass bumps against his erection. Jughead’s chin is wet with her release, and he wipes it with the back of his hand as he watches her catch her breath.

 

Betty loves this side of him, knowing she’s the only one who sees it. He can be incredibly dominant in the bedroom, never too gentle with her. It’s sexy, the way he knows how to use her body to make them both feel good. She knows he’s waiting on her signal to keep going, letting her recover from her intense orgasms. “Juggie?”

 

His hand is running up and down her thigh, momentarily sliding to the apex to drag through some of the wetness glossing it. “Hmm?”

 

“Can we go to the bedroom?”

 

“Of course, Betts,” He smiles down at her as they move off the couch. She’s a little unsteady, but he laces their fingers together sweetly, like he wasn’t just using his to fuck her. “Tired?”

 

She shakes her head as they make it to the doorway. Looking up at him through her lashes, she knows he had known the answer already. Betty steps up to where he’s leaning against the frame, let’s herself palm him over his jeans. She rises on her tip toes as she begins to undo his belt, and kisses him sweetly.

 

“Can we go slow, Jug?”

 

He’s distracted by the way her hand is currently in his boxers and jerking his dick, but he opens his eyes to look at her. He cups her face in his hands, and gives her another dirty, open mouthed kiss. “We can go so slow, baby.”

 

Jughead keeps his word when he finally crowds her onto the mattress, draping himself over her. He intertwines the fingers of one hand, bracing it beside her head, mindful not to pin down her hair. He uses the other to guide himself inside her while she digs her nails into his shoulder blade.

 

As many times as they’ve done this over the last year, it’s never enough. It’s often quick, worry of interruption keeping it so. He’s eager for the chance to savor this, to make every minute feel like a lifetime when they’re together.

 

Betty wants to close her eyes as he drags himself slowly out of her then back again, but he grips her chin with his free hand. “Look at me, Betts.”

 

She nods erratically, already overwhelmed by him as he makes his motions more forceful, but keeps the pace slow. Jughead kisses the corner of her mouth as his hand settles around her neck, thumb under her jaw. Her moan reverberates against his palm when he squeezes lightly. “Again, Jug.”

 

He obliges, pressing harder as he breathes an _I love you_ into her temple. Her free hand comes to rest over his as she begins to flutter around his cock, which continues with his torturously slow rhythm.

 

“Come on, Betty,” Jughead lets her throat go to press her thigh open wider, letting himself drive into her deeper. “I know you’re right there, baby.”

 

She takes a stuttering breath in and exhales his name, closing her eyes as she lets herself fall over the edge again for him. His slow rocking into her drags the orgasm out to the point of discomfort, and she’s sobbing into his shoulder, begging him to finally move faster.

 

Jughead slides his arm underneath her to hoist her up slightly against him, and let’s go of her other hand to tangle his fingers in her hair. He lets his hips snap against hers, ignoring the way the bed is knocking into the wall obnoxiously with his erratic pace.

 

“ _Fuck,_ Jughead, _please.”_

He kisses her neck, knowing he can’t keep it together much longer. “You think you can come again with me?”

 

Betty only nods and hitches her leg farther up his back, heel digging in.

 

It’s all he needs to know, pressing his pelvis hard against her with every thrust into her, swallowing her gasps in a kiss. “God, baby, you’re so tight. I’m gonna-“

 

“Me too, Juggie.”

 

They do come together, Jughead thankful for their solitude as he loudly groans into her neck. Betty’s not any quieter, pressing her head back into the mattress with a scream.

 

She’s slick and warm with their sweat beneath him, but he doesn’t want to move off of her yet. “I love you, Betty Cooper.”

 

“Jughead Jones,” She kisses the side of his neck and whispers the rest of her sentiment into his thrumming carotid. “ _I love you.”_

After a few lazy kisses, Betty slips out to clean up. She comes back with his flannel buttoned up over her naked body. Ducking under the covers with him, she nestles into his side. “Thank you for tonight. All of it, the dance, the trailer…”

 

“The sex?”

 

She laughs sweetly as she turns to face him, fingers tracing his moles. “That wasn’t sex, Juggie.”

 

He furrows his brow at her, not understanding.

 

“That was love,” she whispers against his lips after she kisses him softly. “We made love, baby.”

 

Jughead knows the words are true as soon as she says them. He’s blown away every time, by the enormity of the emotions she brings out of him with the simplest of things.

 

He presses his forehead to Betty’s, enjoying the intimacy of being totally alone and vulnerable with her.

 

“You know you’re it for me, right, Betts?”

 

She hums as she drags her fingers through his messy hair. “I was hoping you’d think so. Because you’re it for me too. Forever.”

 

“Forever.” Jughead kisses her chest over her heart.

 

There’s a silent acknowledgement as they lay together, that this is the first night spent of that forever. Soon, they’d get a lifetime of making love before falling asleep together, endless early morning kisses over coffee. For now, they have tonight in this trailer, two halves of the same heart finally beating steady as they lay together. Tomorrow, its back to core four dates and hovering parents, but tonight it’s just them.

 

It’ll always be just them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So writing smut for me is sort of new still, I hope it reads well. Anyway, until next time! Thanks for reading!


	4. the night of march 6th, 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead does some thinking after spending a week away from Betty; when she returns to, he has a question for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! I really like this chapter, lots of introspective Jughead. Time jumps ahead here, to when they're in NYC.

**_03.06.2014_ **

****

Jughead’s sitting in the sill of his window, blowing smoke out onto the fire escape.

 

The early spring night is mild, and there’s no breeze, even four flights up. He flicks the ash away and takes another drag. He knows smoking is bad, but the artist in him has developed an attachment to the habit that’s much stronger than his body’s response to the nicotine. So, he smokes.

 

He’s quite the cliché these days. The son of a former gangbanger who is serving a dime piece upstate, and now a budding writer living in a visibly cheap studio in Hell’s Kitchen. He goes to school at NYU and listens to existential and pretentious lecturers drone on about the writing process. He’s quiet and brooding, strange and dark tattoos on his arm. He works nights as a bartender in a seedy place close to the piers.

 

He’s got a mattress on the floor, where a perfect, blonde girl-next-door sleeps soundly.

 

Jughead drinks her in from his perch. He’ll never get over looking at her. She’s facing away from him, her back bare and exposed, letting him see the dark spots on her shoulder blades where he’d marked her as they’d made love. He hasn’t seen her in a week. She’d gone back to Riverdale for their spring break, with Archie and Veronica in tow.

 

He’d given excuses about midterms and work to the Andrews’ and his dad, but she knew he really just wasn’t ready to go back yet. Jughead had realized upon moving to the city, how much contention he had developed towards his hometown.

 

There was a bad taste in his mouth when he thought about returning. So, he doesn’t. Every time he goes to visit F.P. at Shankshaw, he drives right past Riverdale without stopping. There’s something so revolting about the place where nearly everything went wrong for him.

 

He doesn’t know if he’ll ever go back; in this moment, with Betty asleep in his bed, he doesn’t know why he ever would.

 

Jughead spent this week alone doing a lot of thinking. Especially about her.

 

But also about what the fuck he was doing with himself.

 

He’s finished the rough draft of his novel. The last several weeks he’d been making his way through the first self-edit, taking it chapter by chapter, before handing them off for Betty to proof as well. He plans to come back and do the first rewrite once they’ve both made their notes. Then another round of editing and rewrites, after which he’s decided to start sending it off to publishing houses. If it flops, he’ll go back to the drawing board. If it flies…

 

Well, Jughead’s never been one to get ahead of himself.

 

He glances around the loft, and is glad he straightened up before Betty had come over. It’s a small space, and clutter only intensifies it. There’s an L-shaped kitchen to the left of the door; if you could call it that, it’s really just two burners, a fridge, and the small sink and counter in the corner space between them. Across from it is the jut out that hosts the bathroom and closet space. Down the wall from the kitchenette is a worn couch, in front of which sits a coffee table piled in books. Directly across is the bed, and to the left is a long dresser pressed up against the wall of the bathroom. Two windows frame the back wall and his frequently used desk sits in between.

 

Its small, like 475 square feet at best. But the building manager is kind, and its rent controlled. As far as low-quality NYC real estate goes, it’s a fucking _steal._ Jughead can still hear the sharpness in Alice Cooper’s voice when he’d asked her to co-sign the lease for him. She hadn’t been thrilled when her 18-year-old daughter’s boyfriend had shown up for Christmas with the wild plan to move out of the safety of the dorms and into a building blocks away from NYU.

 

He’d only shrugged, saying he could afford it (which she knew, as she’s the one who took him to open a saving’s account at 16.) Alice had signed with little more resistance, but only after shaking her pen at him as she tutted about his credit score.

 

Which is _great,_ by the way.

 

Jughead really has done quite well, he thinks, despite everything. Two jobs in high school and enough collective scholarship money to cover nearly two-thirds of his expected tuition had allowed him to save for this. The tips from the bar kept him in meager groceries and black coffee through the week, leaving his checks to cover rent and his minimum monthly payment to NYU. It’s not easy, but its proving to be doable.

 

It’s just—there’s only one thing Jughead’s ever really wants.

 

_Betty._

And yeah, he’s technically got her. Hell, he had just _had her_ a few hours ago. But he’s so much better when she’s around. He’s always known it, but its more apparent every passing day. Really, he’s doing all this, the novel, the jobs, _college,_ for her. It’s to make him better and more successful, but that’s only so he can be good enough for her, and so they can have a strong future together.

 

Because Jughead _knows_. He _knows_ they’re forever. It doesn’t matter that they’re young or that shit happens or that he was born on the wrong side of the tracks. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and he’s going to love Elizabeth Cooper his whole life.

 

So, he might as well work to make sure that the life, the one they share, is a damn good one.

 

The girl who is constantly in his thoughts stirs in the sheets. He watches as Betty hums while reaching an arm out to his empty space beside her, but comes up empty. She nestles further into the pillows, and tucks her chin against her shoulder. In a tangle of blonde hair, there’s an emerald eye peeking out at him.

 

“It’s rude to stare, _Forsythe_.”

 

“Just appreciating the art, Betts.” He pushes off the window sill, leaving it open, and walks to stand over the mattress. He likes his name when its rolling of her tongue.

 

Betty rolls onto her back and looks up at him. She makes no attempts to cover her body, leaving a stretch of milky skin from her neck down to the little dip below her navel. She runs one hand up her body to rest below her breast, and he follows the movement shamelessly.

 

She’s like a Renaissance painting, like a piece carved by Praxiteles. Completely timeless. Jughead had been dead serious when he said she was a work of art.

 

“Come to bed,” she whispers, a direct contrast to the noise of the city that comes in from the open window.

 

Jughead watches her watch him as he slides his jeans back down his hips to pool at his feet. He steps up to the low mattress, and she wraps her hand delicately around his right ankle. He looks down at her curiously.

 

Her thumb rubs back and forth softly. “Love you.”

 

He sinks down to curl around her warm body, mildly annoyed that he’s still wearing his boxers as he presses against the naked curve of her side. Betty remains on her back as he slips his arms around her; she rests her forearm over the one of his that sits low on her belly, fingers intertwining.

 

“God, do I love you, Betty Cooper,” he breaths into her neck.

 

She hums as she plays with his hands. _They’re so strong,_ she thinks.

 

“I had a thought while you were gone.”

 

“Just one?” Betty quips. He can hear her grinning.

 

“ _No,”_ he nips good-naturedly at her jaw. “But this was probably the best one.”

 

She rolls to face Jughead, tracing his moles with the pad of her forefinger. “Was it that one thought of me where I wear your beanie and nothing else? Because that one’s pretty good.”

 

Smirking, he shakes his head.

 

“It’s actually _not_ a sex thought, but we should make sure to revisit that topic.”

 

Betty looks to him with curiosity, done with her teasing.

 

“I was thinking,” his hand is drawing patterns on the back of her thigh, and her eyes are drawn to the snake tattoo curling up his elbow with the movement. _Serpent dance._ “About how much I like having you here, at the studio. I was thinking… I know you and V had started talking about looking for a place for next year, but I thought, well, I have a place. And you’re here a lot already. It’s a bit away from campus, but it’s not bad? Plus, between two people, it’s almost sinfully cheap. We can stay for the summer, together. This way you don’t have to buy furniture; although that couch was like 2 years past its prime when I bought it to start with.”

 

Jughead sighs, a little winded from his rant. His hand ghosts to the crease of her ass and he squeezes lovingly. “Look Betts, if you don’t want to, or you think it’s too soon, it was only an idea, but I don’t. Think it’s too soon, that is. In fact, I think we should have done it from the start.”

 

Betty drags her eyes up his arm slowly, from the place she’d been studying while he spoke. She’s a little surprised to the see the obvious nervousness in Jughead’s eyes. He’s worried she’ll say no, that she’ll think it’s a horrible idea. She shuffles a little closer, and kisses the corner of his mouth.

 

“You want me to stay?”

 

Jughead rolls them slowly, so she’s underneath him. She hasn’t said yes yet, but the uncertainty has already left his eyes. “I want you to stay.”

 

Moments later and he’s moving inside her. She grips the blade of his shoulder tighter then whispers between her cries, “How long, Juggie?”

 

“Forever.” He’s picking up the pace now. He knows, he always knows what she’s asking of him. “Want you forever.”

 

Afterward, she lays on top of him, one arm folded over his stomach and her cheek resting against it. Jughead watches her trace the loopy letters inked over his heart as he drags his fingers through her hair. _Elizabeth._ A clear demarcation as to who’s he was.

 

Jughead remembers with a smile, the first time she’d traced it, the skin still sore beneath her hand. How she had looked up through her lashes and whispered _that’s me,_ like she couldn’t believe he was hers _._

It’s her. _It’s always her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I think these two are just so special.


	5. a weekend in may, 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty and Jughead get a pet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The origin story of Caramel! Hope you guys like the update, mostly just cute fluff. Sorry its so short, but its very sweet!

_**05.29.2015** _

 

Jughead is typing away at the desk in their bedroom as Betty finishes hanging the last of the pictures above the bed.

 

“What do you think, Jug?” She’s standing up on the mattress, head tilted in appraisal.

 

Her husband doesn’t look up from the screen. “I think…that we should get a _cat.”_

Betty whips around, “ _What?”_

“A cat, Betts. We need a pet.”

 

“Juggie,” She shakes her head, “I just want to know what you think of the wall décor and you tell me we need a _cat.”_

Jughead swivels in his chair towards her, fingers twined across his stomach as he reclines. “Yes, baby, that is exactly what happened.”

 

She gestures to the frames over their bed, her too big t-shirt riding up as she does. “ _Jug._ This is important. I don’t want to hear my mother tell me how the colors clash. Or, god, _Veronica_ going on about how outdated light wood frames are. Tell me how they look and then we can talk about how we are not getting a cat.”

 

“First of all,” His eyes drag down the length of her body, grinning at her lack of actual pants. “They look fantastic. Second of all, we _are_ getting a cat, Betty. We’ll make excellent parents.”

 

Betty pinches the bridge of her nose as she sits on the bed. “You didn’t even look at the wall, you’re just being a pervert! And cats don’t need parents, they need _owners_. With-with _litterboxes,_ Jug. It’s like a whole living thing to take care of.”

 

“The wall looks great, Betts.” This time his eyes do look to the space behind her. “And that’s the point, to have something we share and take care of. Come on, you know you would love having something cute and sweet to come home to. Other than me, of course. Cats are less work than dogs or babies, but more interactive than, say, a guinea pig.”

 

“I…am not going to say anything about the fact that you lumped us having a _child_ in with what kind of pet we’re best suited for.”

 

Jughead rolls his eyes. “Betty, you can adopt kids, too.”

 

He manages to grab the décor pillow she hurls at him before it hits his face.

 

Betty sighs. “Okay, it’s actually not the worst idea. Getting a cat, not having a baby.”

 

“See! Now, I’ve been looking at all the adoption places around, and I think I found us a kitten. C’mere.”

 

Betty gets up to pad to the desk, and slides into his lap when he opens his arms. “You picked out a cat before we even discussed it?”

 

“Honestly, I knew you’d agree.” He clicks through the tabs until it settles on a photo of a tiny orange tabby with green eyes and little white socked paws. “Or I was just going to surprise you for an early birthday gift, because I knew you couldn’t resist her then.”

 

She barely hears him as she leans forward to see the screen better, forgetting all her logical protests. “Oh, Juggie, she’s so beautiful! We _need_ her. She’s meant to be our baby, I can tell. Oh, my god, her name is _Caramel,_ that’s adorable!”

 

“I figured we could change- “

 

“No,” Betty shakes her head. “It’s perfect. _She’s_ perfect. Jug, we’re _getting_ this cat.”

 

His laugh is hearty and he winds his arms around her wait. “I’m glad to hear that, because I was actually filling out the application while you played interior decorator.”

 

“Wait, are you serious?” Betty twists to look at him.

 

He pushes a lock of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, baby. I told you, I saw her and I knew. We are supposed to have that cat.”

 

She kisses him excitedly. “We are supposed to have that cat.”

 

_**05.31.2015** _

 

Two days later, Jughead and Betty eagerly enter the apartment, a small black carrier in Betty’s arms.

 

“Okay, okay, the living room? Or the bedroom?”

 

Jughead glances around before saying, “Bedroom. Start her out with a little bit of space to get acclimated, plus the litterbox is in the bathroom. Oh, and the balcony, she can’t get out there from the bedroom.”

 

“Oh, my god,” Betty gasps, pulling the carrier tighter to her as they head down the hall. “The balcony! I didn’t even think, Juggie, we’re going to have to baby proof this whole apartment.”

 

“At this rate, we should’ve just had an _actual_ baby, for all the money and thought going into this little lady.”

 

She rolls her eyes. “Jughead, shut up. You’re concept of babies is appalling, that you keep equating their level of care to house pets.”

 

“My concept of babies is limited to how they’re made, sweetheart.” His grin is dripping with innuendo as they close the door and Betty sets the carrier on the floor.

 

“Now is not the time to be gross. We have a kitten to love.” With that she kneels next to the bag, which has started to _mew-mew,_ and unzips it.

 

Jughead sits too. “Hi, pretty girl.”

 

From the bag, the little tabby creeps out, her eyes wide as she appraises her new humans. She _mew-mews_ loudly again looking between them before slinking out to sit next to Betty’s sock clad foot.

 

“Oh, Juggie, she’s so perfect.” Betty offers the back of her hand and the kitten stands to rub against it. “Baby, look, she likes me!”

 

He chuckles. “Of course, she does, Betts. She knows we’re her parents. Don’t you, Caramel?”

 

The cat slides its cheek down Betty’s hand before sniffing his knee. Her green eyes watch his as she gives a curious _meow_ and pops up on his leg, teetering closer to his body. She slinks down into his lap, dragging her orange side against his stomach once with a content purr, before curling into a ball.

 

“Don’t move! I need a picture, Jug.” Betty pulls her phone out, quickly opening the app. Jughead smiles down at the kitten as he scratches behind her ear. Caramel’s eyelids are drooping as she purrs, tired from a full day of getting a family.

 

“Juggie, she loves you.”

 

He grins up at his wife. “Happy?”

 

Betty scoots to rest her head on his shoulder as they watch their new pet doze off. “So happy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love these two, and I really loved all the sweet moments in the season two finale!! Anyway, I'll have a new chapter up soon, but check out my new multi-chapter story 'cut while shaving' in the mean time! Its a canon compliant story set 8 years after 2.22, and will include bughead, varchie, AND choni!! Till next time.


	6. the spring of 2011

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica and Archie find out about Betty and Jughead, in two parts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, I know its been a little bit since an update here, but hopefully you've seen my other two new projects, one of which is part of this universe! Check them out! 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy this, I really love both these stories!

**_04.04.2011_ **

****

“I just didn’t think Archie would be that dumb, B.”

 

Betty smiled bemusedly from behind the raven-haired girl, where she was braiding her glossy mane. “V, no offense to Arch, but he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed. Especially when it comes to women.”

 

Veronica sighed. “I know, but he shouldn’t be _that_ dense.”

 

Betty reached for a hair tie, loosening the plait to settle it as her friend continued. “I mean even _Jughead_ knew what day it was. Jughead, the antisocial antagonist, who actively tries to keep his awareness of me to a minimum.”

 

“Yes, I know the one, V,” Betty rolled her eyes and tried not to smile too hard at the mention of the beanie wearing boy.

 

Veronica narrowed her eyes in the mirror. “You do, don’t you, Betty?”

 

“Veronica…” Betty moved away to climb on to her bed, hugging a pillow to her. She’s half inclined to ask Veronica if she had something more to say, but that’s a Pandora’s box of sorts, so she settles on redirecting back to Archie’s idiocy. “I think you need to just tell him, that he upset you.”

 

“Betty, he should’ve remembered it was my birthday!”

 

“Right,” Betty leans against the headboard. “But he didn’t, so…tell him that it upset you, so he knows next time.”

 

Veronica mills around the room, pausing at the window to peer out. Betty knows she’s hoping for a glimpse of the red head in question. “I hate that you make so much sense right now.”

 

“Well, I have _some_ experience in handling Archie’s short term memory lapses.”

 

“That you do, Betty,” Veronica shifts her gaze to the blonde. “You’re well versed in those boys.”

 

She narrows her eyes at her best friend and presses. “And lately, it seems you’re _particularly_ fluent in the ways of one brooding young Southside soul.”

 

Betty looks to the window behind Veronica before saying with confidence. “That’s probably because we had sex.” 

 

She would have paid good money to capture the look of total shock on the Lodge heir’s face. Betty wonders if she’s ever actually seen Veronica as floored as she is in this moment.

 

Sputtering, she manages an, “ _Excuse me?”_

 

“I slept with Jughead. So, that’s probably why we seem so- “

 

“Jughead had _sex?”_ Veronica interjects, sounding incredulous.

 

Betty knows her smile is probably a bit too proud. _“Yes_ , Veronica. With me.”

 

Veronica was stunned. One hand rested on her hip, the other running to cover her gaping mouth. “Oh, my _god_ , Betty, I know I should be gushing about your deflowering, but I was honestly starting to doubt Jughead Jones even thought about sex, let alone would be having it anytime this century.”

 

“Well,” Betty picks at the stitching of her duvet. “ _I’m_ not surprised considering we’ve been...”

 

“You’ve been...?”

 

There’s a pause. “We’ve been- we _are_ together, Veronica. Like _together_ together, even before we did it.”

 

Veronica has to sit down on the window seat. “You and Jughead are dating? Like there’s feelings involved?"

 

Betty nods her head.

 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Veronica asks.

 

“I don’t know,” Betty leans back on her palms. “I guess I like it just being ours. Archie doesn’t know either, I don’t think Jughead knows how to tell him, and I don’t think it should come from you, V— “

 

“Say no more,” she raises a hand in solidarity. “I get it, B. He’s my boyfriend, but he’s yours and Jughead’s best friend. I won’t overstep. Now. More importantly, sex with Jughead…?”

 

“Sex with Jughead,” Betty nods, biting her lip to keep back her smile. “Is really nice.”

 

“I’ll take your word for it. How long has this little affair been happening right under my nose?”

 

Betty tries to pinpoint the moment this thing with him started. “I mean, _it_ happened the Monday before last. We’ve been...closer since just before his dad’s sentencing, he kissed me then. But it’s been longer in the making than that, V. I think we’ve been on the cusp of this for a while now.”

 

Veronica shook her head and came to climb on the bed with Betty. “Wow, Kevin mentioned something back on New Year’s, about how you two looked at each other...I just thought, you were close, you know? Jughead never struck me as the type to have much interest in people, let alone women.”

 

“Honestly, V,” Betty laughs. “I don’t think he is that interested sometimes. I mean he’s into me, clearly, but other girls? He said he’s been in love with me since we were nine years old; I think he doesn’t know how to see anyone else.”

 

Veronica puts her hand over her heart. “Oh, my god, _swoon_. B, he loves you?” 

 

Betty’s smile is shy as she looks at her hands. “Yeah, I mean I think so. He only said that he was quote _in love with me_ the other day when we stopped at the corner store, like it was so casual. It wasn’t like an actual _I love you_ or anything.” 

 

“Hey,” Veronica puts a hand on her knee. “That’s bigger than an _I love you.”_

 

“You think?” Betty is chewing her lip again.

 

“I know.” Veronica sighs. She sits back with a look of wonder. “Wow, _Jughead Jones_ is in love with you.”

 

Betty smiles and presses her face into the pillow, feeling giddy. “Jughead Jones is in love with _me.”_

 

She peeks out from behind the cushion to see Veronica smiling at her. “V?” 

 

“Yeah?”

 

Betty breaths it out, the words carrying off in a light moment of awe. “I’m in love with him, too.”

 

“Oh B!” Veronica pulls her into her arms, hugging her best friend. “I’m so happy for you, even if I don’t really get the appeal.”

 

Betty’s laugh is genuine in her ear. “Thanks, Veronica. I know he’s an acquired taste, but he’s more than meets the eye. He puts up that loner front because he’s still unsure around you. If you guys got to know each other, you’d see inside all those rough edges is the most kind, considerate, sensitive person I know. He’s so _good._ ”

 

“Well, I don’t know if he and I will ever quite see eye to eye, but as long as he treats my girl right, he’s fine in my book.”

 

“He does.” Betty smiles as they pull away. “Oh, V, I didn’t mean to hijack the conversation, I know you came over so we could complain about Archie!”

 

“Betty, no worries.” Veronica stood up. “I’d rather have spent the time gushing over your dark and stormy beau, than mope over my Archiekins. Which, I should go deal with. Ugh. Thanks for this though, I needed to have some B & V time.”

 

“Of course, maybe girl’s night this weekend?”

 

Veronica perked up at the suggestion. “With Kevin?”

 

“It’s not a real girl’s night without him, after all.” Betty smiled back.

 

—

 

Veronica is tapping her kitten heel on the worn porch of the Andrews’ residence, listening to the keel of the doorbell.

 

The front door yanks open, a startled red head looking relieved to see her. “Ronnie, thank god, I was texting you all morning! I’m so sorry—“

 

“Save it Archie, I’m not here for you. Is Jughead around?” Veronica already knew the answer, surmising when he’s not with Archie, he’s with Betty, and since she’d just left the latter’s presence...

 

“Uh,” Archie looks understandably confused. “Yeah, he’s upstairs in his room. But Veronica, I want to apologize— “

 

She’s already through the door, and flitting up the stairs, the ginger following behind her. “We can talk about it later. This one?” She points to a door.

 

He nods, following her in. “Seriously, Ronnie— “

 

Jughead looks up from his bean bag chair startled. Veronica appraises him, slouched in the seat, knees spread. He only wears a black t-shirt and dark ripped jeans, his poor posture leaving a strip of his stomach exposed. His hair is unruly and uncovered, and with his sharp jawline, it gives a very James Dean-esque look to match his _I-don’t-give-a-fuck_ attitude. 

 

Not Veronica’s cup of tea, but she certainly isn’t blind to the appeal.

 

“Um,” he glances between the quarreling lovers. “Should I go?”

 

“No,” Veronica says pointing a finger at him, before turning to Archie. “ _You_ should. I need a word with Jughead.”

 

Archie rolls his eyes. “Fine, but we’re talking before you leave, deal?”

 

“It’s cute you think this was a negotiation, Archiekins. But yes, I have every intention of berating you, but only after I speak my piece with Jughead.”

 

The aforementioned interjects. “What are we talking about, Veronica? If this about that piece I wrote about your dad trashing the drive-in, you can save your Park Avenue breath.”

 

“Jesus, Jughead, not everything’s about your insistent vigilantism. That was months ago; I have a new torch to carry. Evidently, so do you.”

 

“Right, I’m just gonna go then.” Archie scoots out the door, just as Jughead calls out to him. “Sorry man, I’m not pissing her off again.”

 

Now alone, Veronica walks over to perch herself on the bed, crossing her legs. Jughead has been glaring at her warily the entire time. She clasps her hands on her knee, and says, “So.”

 

Jughead quirks a brow, “So.”

 

“Betty told me.”

 

He has an excellent poker face, giving no indication as to the nature of what the blonde might have disclosed. “She told you...?”

 

“Let’s see,” Veronica tosses her head back as if deep in thought. “She told me about the secret dating, the sex, the fact that you said you had been in love with her for seven years...should I continue?”

 

His face is still impassive, though his gaze is fixed just to the left of her head. “No, I think I get the gist.”

 

Veronica tilts her head. “Do you really?” 

 

“Get it?” Jughead smirks at her. “ _Obviously._ Unlike Archie, I have a few brain cells to spare for logical reasoning.”

 

“No, do you really love her?” Veronica rolls her eyes.

 

“Oh,” He looks down with a sigh. “Yeah, of course I do. I really do. I think I always have.”

 

Veronica resists the urge to _awww._ “Never would have pegged you for the lifelong pining type, Jughead.”

 

“I’m a lot more than just a pretty face, Veronica.” 

 

She laughed, “Funny, Betty said something similar.” 

 

His grin brightens his face in a way she’d never seen before at the mention of the blonde. Veronica definitely sees it now, Betty’s attraction. “So, are you here to do the whole _if you hurt_ _her_ spiel?”

 

“No actually,” Veronica stands smoothing her skirt. “Seeing as I doubt you have any intention of doing that. Obviously, you’ll treat her well, so help me. But I actually just wanted you to know, that I know. And I’m not saying anything about it to anyone, because Betty doesn’t want me to, and that includes Archie. Just...he’d be happy, you know? That you guys are happy. Anyway, we’re dating each other’s best friends, which is a level beyond just being _your_ best friend’s girlfriend. So, this is my way of...offering an olive branch. All the stuff in the last several months, I want it behind us; it might have involved our last names but it wasn’t _us_. Besides, we should make an effort, for Archie and Betty, to be more comfortable with each other. Does that make sense?”

 

Jughead nods slowly. “Yeah, it does actually. I think you’re right, Veronica. Shouldn’t let the past dictate the future. So, friends, then?”

 

“In a manner of speaking,” Veronica grins at him.

 

“Well congrats, this officially makes you my third friend.”

 

She rolls her eyes, “Don’t expect me to laugh at your constant self-deprecation, Jones.” 

 

“Noted,” he grins. “You should talk to Archie, by the way. So, he’ll stop asking me for advice, because he seems to get annoyed every time I tell him he should’ve just remembered in the first place.”

 

Veronica gasps. _“Right?_ Betty said to just tell him for next time, but there shouldn’t have been a _this_ time!”

 

Jughead picks at one of the rips in his jeans. “Betty’s too nice.”

 

“That she is.” Veronica heads to the door, “I’ll see you later, Jughead.”

 

“Bye, Veronica. And thanks...for, I don’t know, supporting us, I guess.”

 

“Whatever makes our girl happy.” With that she twirls out of the room, to find her own boyfriend sitting on the floor across the hall. He scrambles up, and gives her a sheepish grin.

 

She sighs but can’t help but smile at him. “Come on Archiekins, let’s talk.” 

 

**_05.02.2011_ **

****

Jughead tries to slip into the Andrew’s house as quietly as possible. He’s had a lot of practice these last few months, but it seems his luck runs out when the parlor light switches on just as he puts a foot on the first step.

 

“ _Jesus,_ Archie, what the hell?”

 

Archie sits in the floral chair, arms crossed and looking unamused. “I could say the same to you, _Jughead.”_

Bemusedly, Jug tilts his head to the side, “Seriously, dude, cryptic is not a good look on you--“

 

“Where were you tonight, Jug?” Archie inquires, standing to approach his dark-haired friend. Her hums suspiciously and raises an orange brow, awaiting a response.

 

“The Bijou.” Jughead narrows his eyes.

 

“With _Betty_?”

 

He shifts uncomfortably under Archie’s third degree, “No, she’s hanging out with Veronica at the--”

 

Archie nods along sarcastically, looking unconvinced as he interrupts, “Oh is she, Juggie? So then why did Ronnie call me asking to hang out tonight, since _Betty_ had asked her to cover for her in case Mrs. Cooper called? Because _Betty— “_

“Stop saying her name like that, Archie.”

 

“—told Ronnie that you two were going _together_ tonight. Which is funny because, last I saw you, you had gone to your room, saying you had some writing to catch up on.” Archie finishes with a strange hand gesture that Jug takes to mean _explain that one, Jones._

 

Jughead blinks twice, before turning to walk up the stairs.

 

“Jug!” Archie whisper-yells, not wanting to wake Fred as they approach the top of the staircase. “ _Hey,_ Jug, you can’t just ignore me, dude, I literally live in the room next to yours!”

 

Jughead reaches said room, and attempts to close the door on Archie, but is overpowered when the larger boy pushes his way in and shuts the door. He crosses his arms and leans against it, effectively trapping Jughead.

 

With an exasperated sigh, Jug throws his phone and keys onto the dresser next to the door before walking to the window. He doesn’t have a view of Betty’s room from here, like Archie does.

 

“Jug,” his friend regards him much like one regards a wild animal, wearily. “Were you with Betty?”

 

“You already seem to know the answer there, Arch.”

 

Archie rolls his eyes, “Yeah, but I meant…Juggie, were you _with_ Betty?”

 

Jughead honestly doesn’t know why he doesn’t just say yes already. This is his best friend, who has always been supportive of his unrequited crush on the girl next door. He knows Archie would be thrilled to know his two best friends had finally found their way to each other. And yet, him and Betty, despite being as close as any two people could be at this point, had made no public outing or declaration of the change in their relationship. He suspects Veronica knows, but beyond that it’s been private moments in the B&G office or his dad’s truck. And in the last several weeks, nighttime rendezvous in her bedroom, where he sneaks back in her window after making sure Alice Cooper sees him leave through the front door.

 

Before he can say anything, his phone buzzes on the dresser. Archie’s eyes snap down to it, widening when he sees the name _Betts_ indicating a text. Jughead moves to grab the device when he sees Archie reach for it, suddenly nervous, knowing there is only one person who could be texting him right now.

 

Archie has the phone unlocked before he even makes it to the door, breathing out an _oh my god_ as Jughead snatches it away. But based on the grin his friend wears, the damage is done.

 

“You _were_ with her! Like _with her,_ with her!” His friend points his finger excitedly at nothing in particular, and Jughead worries fleetingly of waking Fred. “Dude, you and Betty Cooper—Jug, she’s like, _naked_ in that picture!”

 

“ _What?”_ Jughead hurriedly opens the text thread to see the girl in question. It’s actually a selfie, with only the bottom half of her face pictured, her bubblegum pink lip caught between her teeth. Archie’s declaration is obviously a reference to the way her fingers pull at the neck of her baby blue camisole, the picture showing how its ridden up her stomach and just barely captures the lace band of her underwear. She’s _not_ naked, although its readily apparent she’s forgoing a bra.

 

Jughead doesn’t mention that less than half an hour ago she _had_ actually been naked, or that he’d been there as an active participant in the nakedness. How he’d, arguably, been the one to initiate her getting naked in the first place. He definitely doesn’t mention the fact that when he’d left her bedroom, she’d _still been_ naked, making his departure a rather difficult one.

 

These are all things Archie doesn’t really need to know.

 

“It’s not what you think, Arch.”

 

 _“_ Oh, the girl you’ve been in love with for _years’_ texts you a sexy picture 15 minutes after you sneak home that says ‘ _miss you already, Juggie,’_ and it’ _s not what I think_? Tell what it is then, man, because I would love to know what a guy has to do to get a girl to send him _that_ for reasons other than the you two literally _just_ had sex!”

 

Sighing loudly, Jug looks at him with exasperation. “I guess it is what you think.”

 

“ _Dude.”_

Jughead holds up a hand, “Spare the lecture, Archie.”

 

“What? No, I’m not gonna lecture you, Jughead. This is awesome, man! Why didn’t you tell me? I thought you two were hanging out a lot and maybe…but I wasn’t sure. And now, I owe Kevin $20 because you didn’t want to tell your _best friend-roommate-brother_ that you had finally grown the balls to shoot your shot!”

 

After a pause, “You did make the first move, right?”

 

Jughead rolls his eyes, and reopens the text thread to look at the picture. “ _Yes,_ Archie. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, I just…it’s been good, just being with her and not having to answer any questions. Besides, what does your debt to Kevin have to do with this? You should know by now he’s a much better gambler than you.”

 

Archie flops onto Jughead’s bed, “Dude, we made a bet on New Year’s about you two making it official. Kev said you’d wait _at least_ until spring break, and I said you’d do it sooner.”

 

Jughead doesn’t look up as he types out a reply to Betty’s teasing text. She may be asleep by now, but he sends it anyway. “Well, you’re in luck, because we’ve been together since January.”

 

Archie shoots up, but his friend doesn’t notice as he watches the _dot-dot-dots_ dance on the screen as his girl responds immediately to his flirtation.

 

“ _You’ve been hooking up with Betty since January?!”_

Jughead is about to correct Archie that the sex is a more recent development, but suddenly his phone is vibrating in his hand with an incoming call from Betty. Despite having only just left, he can’t help but grin knowing how much she _misses him_ after their quick and heated text exchange.

 

“Archie, we’re gonna have to table this conversation,” Jughead says pushing his gingery friend out the door with little resistance.

 

Archie looks around the hallway when the door shuts in his face, suddenly confused by what just happened. He shakes his head and turns to his room, but not before he hears the low _Hey, Betts_ from the other side of Jug’s door.

 

 _His two best friends_ , he thinks happily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Veronica is FUN! Hope you enjoyed, I really wanted to write some friendship stuff for this coda, and I love how it turned out! Also, make sure you check out 'the after words,' if you like these stories! Till next time!


	7. march 11th 2018

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archie has some questions, Jughead shares his wisdom, and everyone learns the joys of naked Sundays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyy so life has been rough lately, and AO3 has fallen on my priority list. However, I'm updating this fic and 'the afterwords' today, because I love sharing with you all!!! Thank you for your kind words, I promise I'm trying to respond to all the comments, as always. If you've been following 'cut while shaving,' it will be a while for an update; its on the back burner until I make sense of some plot stuff to move forward. 
> 
> Anyway, I love this chapter! It was actually the first coda written after I finished 'when you can't find the words' and it is Very Special. Enjoy!!

**_03.11.2018_ **

****

There’s a dull buzzing somewhere off to the right of Jughead, but he’s actively trying to ignore it. Ever since finding out Betty was pregnant, it felt like they barely had any quiet moments.

 

_This_ was their quiet moment.

 

A Sunday morning, where they both had no Monday deadlines, or meetings, or brunch plans, or excessive baby planning. When they’d realized the Tuesday prior they had a free day, Betty had _actually_ done a happy dance (which had been very cute, as she was all belly at 27 weeks.) They agreed on a clothes ban and a take-out place, and set the date.

 

So, they’re still in bed. They had lazy morning sex and took a nap right after. Jughead managed to scrape together some bagels and (decaf) coffee to share across their mattress, delightfully naked. On their t.v. they’re finally binging _Mindhunter,_ and their cat is curled up on the pillows behind their heads.

 

This quiet moment, they were soaking it in. Tomorrow would be back to their busy jobs and finally building the crib. This week marked the beginning of the third trimester, plus Betty had a paper and an administrative meeting, while he had a deadline and an interview for a literary journal.

 

Jughead, as the phone begins its vibrating _again,_ considers throwing it across the room, but that might scare the cat. Why the fuck hadn’t he put it on silent? Or just left it in the kitchen?

 

He’s been tracing patterns on the tight skin of Betty’s belly, entirely too amazed by the way he gets the soft response of a kick against his hand. He would like to just take this time to be in awe of the baby growing in his wife’s body, but the _fucking phone_ won’t stop. Finally, Betty stills his hand at the wrist.

 

“Juggie, if you don’t make that thing shut up…”

 

The phone is off the table before she can finish the threat. He could easily just turn it off, but he wants to give whoever decided to interrupt his naked Sunday a piece of his mind. Which is why he stands up from the bed to pace completely bare to the window, hissing in to the phone without bothering to check the ID.

 

“ _Can I help you?”_

“Damn, Jughead! Why do you always answer the phone like that? You’re too young to be so hostile.”

 

Jughead stares blankly at Betty, who is propped up on her elbows in their unmade bed, watching him amusedly. She’s incredibly adorable in this moment, all glowy from pregnancy and post-coital hormones, and he wishes he was holding her instead of talking on this piece of garbage phone.

 

“Archie.” At the sound of their best friend’s name, Betty dramatically flops back onto the mattress. _Of course._ “Why are you calling me on naked Sunday?

 

“Dude, naked what… _Never mind_. Listen, man, I need your help.”

 

Jughead is already moving back towards the bed. “Yeah, I can’t help you.”

 

Archie sighs. “You don’t even know what it is!”

 

“Right, but I know what it’s _not.”_ Jughead braces his forearm on the high footboard and leans over it, his eyes intently on his wife’s. “It’s _not_ spending Sunday in bed with Betty, who may I remind you, is carrying our unborn child. Whatever your problem is Archie, there’s just no beating that.”

 

“Look, Jug. I’m sorry for interrupting your nudist weekend or whatever, but I’m serious. I’m freaking out.”

 

Jughead is holding the phone against his shoulder as he reaches out to run a finger up the arch of Betty’s foot, grinning when she tries to squirm away. “Well, stop freaking out then.”

 

Archie’s quiet on the phone. “Archie? If you don’t make a noise in three seconds, I’m hanging up and blocking your number.”

 

“Jug, please.” He pauses at the sincerity of his friend’s voice, fingers curling around a delicate ankle and giving it a light tug towards him. “Look, it’s about Veronica. And me, well us, I guess. You’re the only married friend I have, and you’re my brother. I seriously need your advice here.”

 

Jughead drops Betty’s leg like it burned him. She glares up at him. “Wait, Archie, you’re not seriously thinking about pro-“

 

“Stop! Stop, if you’re even on the same _block_ as Betty, don’t say it! Ronnie and her will like, communicate telepathically, and then I’m fucked. Just, can we talk? I know you had a whole lazy day thing, but it would mean a lot. I just have some questions.”

 

Eyeing his wife warily, trying to appraise the validity of her physic abilities, Jughead cautiously says into the phone, “Fine. Monica’s?”

 

“Yeah, I’ll be there in 30.” They hang up.

 

\--

 

As Jughead skips a shower and goes straight for the clothes, not really caring that he smells like sex, he can feel Betty watching him from the bed. He slips in the bathroom to brush his teeth, and jumps a little when she appears in his periphery. Arms crossed over her baby bump and still naked, she’s a hot, mildly agitated goddess. He tells her this much around a mouth full of toothpaste.

 

Betty hums without amusement as he spits. “What the hell, Jones? This was naked Sunday. Why am I the only one still naked? And why are you leaving to meet Archie? _At Monica’s?_ You know I love their macchiatos, and thanks to your overachieving sperm, I can’t have caffeine. You’re practically rubbing it in my face.”

 

“Alright there, Betts, hold up,” Jughead lovingly drops a kiss to her belly before moving past her. “Our dear friend Archie is having an emergency that only _my_ expertise can address. Don’t be mad at me about coffee; I’ve seen the receipts, I know you still stop for decaf. And, uh, I distinctly remember you _begging_ for my overachieving sperm one crisp September night. What was it you said? _Oh, Juggie, I need you to come in my— “_

It’s in that moment, as he recounts their son’s accidental conception, that his wife hits him square in the head with an obsolete décor pillow. “Stop being gross before I divorce you. Seriously, what is up with Archie?”

 

Jughead ignores her empty threat, and slides on a flannel followed by his denim Sherpa. As he laces up his boot, he glances up at her with a sigh. “Okay, but you can’t say anything, Betts.”

 

Her eyes light up. She loves secrets. “Archie needs a very specific kind of advice. He’s got some questions…about marriage.”

 

Jughead, ever the theatric, choses this moment to whip out of the room. Grabbing his keys and wallet, before looking desperately around for his beanie, he tries to make it out the door before Betty can shake him down for details. He grits his teeth at the sound of her little pregnant waddle down the hall, just as he snags the hat from where _someone_ (Caramel) tucked it under the sofa. He’s just unlocking the front door as he hears, “Not so fast, Jones!”

 

Jughead doesn’t turn around. “Betty, sweetheart, you know I can’t tell you anymore. I don’t even really _know_ anything.”

 

He hears her sigh and he does a double-take over his shoulder to see she’s _still naked._ Damn, maybe he should just ditch Archie.

 

“Fine, just…If he’s serious Jug, _do not talk him out of this._ Veronica might kill somebody if she doesn’t get a ring soon.”

 

“What if it sounds like he doesn’t want to actually do it?” Jughead’s just being annoying at this point.

 

She swats at his chest. “Of course, he wants to! He just needs some reassurance from his best friend! So, go reassure him. And then come back immediately and tell me everything.”

 

“Fine,” Jughead tugs his beanie on. “But you cannot even so much as _think_ at Veronica about this. She’ll pick up on your ESP waves.”

 

Betty decides to just let her husband be weird and practically shoves him out the door with a “Love you, Jug!”

She smiles so big when she hears a _love you both_ through the door.

 

\--

 

Jughead slides into the booth, large, black red-eye in hand. “That better not be what I think it is.”

 

“Shit!” The redhead visibly jumps, and his phone clatters to the table. “Jesus, Jug, make a normal entrance. One where you actually _announce_ your presence.”

 

Pretending to consider, Jughead shakes his head and says with sardonic pretention. “Nah, that would harsh with my vibe too much, Arch. Seriously, is that a— “

 

“Iced triple almond milk white chocolate macchiato with two pumps of raspberry and light ice? _Yes,_ Jughead, for the love of God, would you just try it already? We all drink it because it’s actually good, not just to piss you off, believe it or not.”

 

Archie pushes the drink a fraction closer to him in offer, and he shoves the offending beverage away a little roughly, sloshing some out the straw hole. He hates those stupid things. Everyone, Betty, Veronica, Kevin, and now Archie, were obsessed with them. Jughead has too much self-respect.

 

With a roll of his eyes, Archie takes a sip while Jughead curls his lip. “Alright man, no more chit chat; I’m missing naked Sunday as we speak. You owe me for this.”

 

“What is this naked Sunday thing you’re so on about?”

 

Jughead smacks a hand on the table top. “Dammit, Andrews, its self-explanatory! And I’m missing it right now, so _please_ ask me how to be the world’s greatest husband so I can get back to it.”

 

His best friend becomes instantaneously nervous as soon as he says _husband._ Jughead softens a little, not wanting him to think he doesn’t care about this thing that is obviously weighing at Archie.

 

“Alright, Arch,” He sips his dark roast before standing. “Let’s take a walk and work this out, okay?”

 

\--

 

They make their way to Prospect Park, and despite the chilly weather, there’s a good amount of activity. Last week’s late snow has gone dirty, but Brooklyn grime is still its own type of beautiful.

 

“Okay, so you said you had…questions?”

 

Archie sighs and stirs his stupid drink. “I guess…I’ve been thinking about it since New Year’s. Proposing to Ronnie, that is. Like, it’s the right thing to do. She’s done with school, the bands got one last tour, and we’re good, you know?”

 

Jughead doesn’t say anything yet.

 

“It’s just, that’s not why I should do it, right?” He runs a hand through his gingery hair. “I mean, that’s obviously not why you did it. You guys did it at like, the worst time.”

 

Now he interrupts, “First of all, Archie, you’re talking about proposing. I never did that. We talked about it and then we did it. Second, it’s fine for you to propose because it’s the right time, that’s logical. What you shouldn’t be doing, is get _married_ because everything makes it _seem_ like the right thing to do. Marriage isn’t about the circumstances of how it happened.”

 

Archie looks confused. “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean,” Jughead nods towards a bench where they go to sit. “I mean that however you get married isn’t really what it’s about. Like, okay weddings? They’re great, for some, but an amazing, beautiful wedding doesn’t make for an amazing, beautiful marriage. Just like the _perfectly timed_ engagement doesn’t equate to a perfect marriage. Betty and I got married after class on a Monday before my shift at the bar when we were nineteen. That’s not some metaphor for our relationship though. I’m sure some people _think_ that’s what breaks a marriage, but I promise you, no one with a strong marriage sites their expensive wedding as the key to success. Does this make any sense?”

 

“Yeah, it does, I think.”

 

They’re quiet as Jughead sips at his cooling coffee. Yards away, two young boys wrapped in parkas run through the dirty snow. There’s a wave of excitement in Jughead’s stomach as he thinks about his unborn son. Archie’s looking to the kids too, but he doubts he’s thinking the same thing.

 

Archie shifts, angling towards him. “So, I have to think about if I want to be married to her, is that what you’re saying? Not about the proposal itself?”

 

“What are you actually concerned about here, Arch?” Jughead makes a face at him. “I can’t give you advice on rings or weddings, clearly. But I can say, if you have to think about it that hard, spending your _life_ with Veronica, you should table popping the question.”

 

“No, _no,_ I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I know that. I’ve _known_ that. I’m not even worried about proposing; I mean, sure its _Ronnie,_ so it’ll have to be beyond perfect, but I can manage.”

 

Jughead throws a hand up. “Well, then what the fuck? Why am I freezing my ass off in a park when I could be enjoying— “

 

“Naked Sunday? Yes, I know.” Archie shakes his head and stands to pace in front of his friend. “Okay, so I want to marry her. I’m going to propose.”

 

“Okay, great, this all could have been done on the phone. _Let’s go.”_ He raises from the bench, only to be pushed back down by Archie.

 

Archie wags a finger at him and keeps pacing. “No, no, Juggie. I wanna marry her. But, dude, what if…what if it doesn’t work out? What if I ruin it, like, I’m a great boyfriend but a terrible husband?”

 

“Oh, for the love of-” Jughead puts his paper cup to the side. “Archie, would you stop spiraling please? Look, there’s associated risk to marriage. There’s two ways out: death and divorce. Those outcomes are fucking awful, but the getting to that point _isn’t._ You’re a good boyfriend because you know her and love her, and work to be good enough for her. Marriage is all that, Arch. It doesn’t work when _you_ don’t do the work.”

 

Archie stops with his hands on his hips and looks down at Jughead. He moves back to sit and picks up the forgotten cup to occupy his hands. Jughead leans back with an arm over the bench, waiting his friend out.

 

“Okay, but, Jug,” Archie looks up from where he’s got his elbows on his knees. “My parents didn’t make it, they’re divorced. And Ronnie’s parents, they’re like a business arrangement; I don’t think they were ever in love with each other. Why would we work?”

 

Jughead is watching the children again, but this time he’s thinking of his father. “Because you’re not your parents.”

 

“What?”

 

“You’re not,” His gaze shifts to Archie. “It’s that easy. Look, my mom _left_ my dad; like, took the kid and never looked back. And Betty’s parents divorced after decades of silent contempt. But us? We’re solid. Maybe some people aren’t meant to work out, but we are. And I think you feel the same way about Veronica.”

 

He sighs and keeps going. “I mean, yeah, I worry sometimes, especially back in the beginning about…being like my father. Or ending up like her folks. But, I don’t know, Arch, we put in the work every day so we don’t. And we call each other out when we slack off. We fight every day for our marriage, because we _need_ each other. We’re all we’ve got; I can count on one hand the number of people who have been supportive of us since we first got married. At nineteen, the odds _weren’t_ in our favor. We were young and broke. But we’re going to make it. I know it, I’ve always known it. She’s my wife, and now she’s the mother of my son, and I need her. So, I put the work in.”

 

Jughead’s throat suddenly feels a little tight. He’s been more emotional lately, with his impending leap into fatherhood, and this little impromptu speech is tugging at his own heartstrings.

 

Archie evidently feels similarly. “Damn, Juggie. Anyone ever told you that you should be a writer? Quite the way with words.”

 

Barking out a laugh in the cold, Jughead shoves his friend’s shoulder. “Once or twice. But seriously, Arch, is that it? You’re scared? Because that’s normal. Wait till you get her pregnant; I think I may just exist in a state of acute fear from here on out.”

 

“Oh, god,” Archie’s head is in his hands again. “Don’t even talk about kids right now, Jug. Ronnie gets serious baby fever every time she sees Betty. I’m just trying to handle one major life altering moment at a time here.”

 

“Considering I’m _having one,_ I’ll try to keep the baby talk to a minimum. All bets are off once the little guy is here though.”

 

The red head looks over at him. “Kind of weird, huh? You having a kid?”

 

Jughead squirms, suddenly nervous. It _is_ weird, and sometimes outside of the little domestic bubble he shares with Betty, its alarming and it knocks the wind right out of him when he least expects it. “We were talking about you here, my friend.”

 

“Right,” Archie can see the way he’s uncomfortable and thankfully lets it go. “Right, yeah, I’m scared. I’m _nervous._ I don’t know, you and Betty make it look easy but I know it’s not. And I know we’re fundamentally a different couple. You’ve been doing it for years, and I just, I don’t know man. I guess I need to know you’ve got my back. You’re my brother, Jug, you know me better than anyone. If you think I can’t- “

 

“ _Hey,”_ Jughead cuts him off before it goes too far. “Archie, I’ve always got your back. But this isn’t really about me, at all. Not about my marriage, or about my thoughts on yours. You’ve got this, man. It’s got nothing to do with anyone other than you and Veronica though. Fuck the background noise. If you’re in it together, you know. Although, for what it’s worth, I think you’re gonna be just fine.”

 

They’re quiet for a moment, both lost in their own thoughts.

 

Suddenly Jughead jumps up from his reverie. “Right, this was great, albeit more emotional than necessary. Glad I could help you with your break through, let me know when you seal the deal.”

 

“Wait, Jug, what the hell?” Archie stands as he starts to retreat.

 

He turns to walk backwards, and gestures noncommittally. “Archie, I have something to get back to. We’re good here, right?”

 

Archie looks around exasperatedly at his eccentric friend. “I guess, yeah. Jesus, Jug, you’re literally running away from me.”

 

Jughead stops and sighs. “Yes, Archie, because for the millionth time it is- “

 

“Naked Sunday.” Archie says unimpressed.

 

“-Naked Sunday, and now that _this_ is resolved, I’d like to go home and warm up. Preferably by having filthy sex with my incredible, loving, angelic wife. I realize this is something you just can’t understand as one of the unwed, but soon enough you’ll know the joys of naked Sundays.”

 

“Jughead, what the fuck?” Archie laughs. “People can understand naked Sunday’s if they’re not married. It’s just an excuse for sex.”

 

Shaking his head, Jughead starts to creep away. “Oh, Archibald, so naive. That’s a strict husband perk. You’ll learn of all this. Call me later. Like in the week, I’ll be busy for the rest of the day.”

 

With that, he turns to head in the general direction of his apartment. Archie throws his hands up, feeling like he’s just gotten off a rollercoaster. Jughead is so strange. Unfortunately, he’s also surprisingly good with relationship advice.

 

As Archie stands to head for the subway, he realizes Jughead left him with his empty paper cup in his haste. Of course, he’d stick Archie with his trash.

 

“Jackass,” he mutters lovingly as he tosses it into a recycling can.

 

\--

 

After an eternity, Jughead finally unlocks the apartment door. The snow had begun on his walk home, and he silently cursed Archie for being such an emotionally needy friend.

 

“Betty?” He calls into the apartment as he removes his outer layers and boots. He pauses and figures, _what the hell?_ He removes his flannel and t-shirt too, and fumbles with his belt as he moves towards the bedroom. It is, after all, naked Sunday.

 

He stops outside the cracked door to kick his jeans all the way off, then removes his socks. Making a mental note to pick his clothes up later so Betty doesn’t trip, he pushes at the door and calls her name out again.

 

Before he says any more, he sees her. Betty’s laying in the middle of the mattress, curled on her side. Unfortunately, she’d put on a t-shirt in his absence; he smiles when he realizes it’s an old Vixen’s cheer shirt that can’t even cover the curve of her belly. A pair of his boxers sit low on her body. Caramel is curled against her back, and raises her head in a soft _mew_ of greeting.

 

Jughead watches her a little longer. Sleep is starting to get uncomfortable for her, and the baby likes to kick at her ribs throughout the night, so he’s relieved to see her resting. After his conversation with Archie, he’s feeling a lot of love for the woman before him. Which is saying something, considering she already takes up all the space in his heart.

 

He retreats back out the bedroom, tripping over his discarded pants with a curse. Figures.

 

Jughead collects the clothes and tosses them into the hallway laundry closet. He decides to take the time to get some shit done, until Betty wakes up. For a moment, he considers cooking for her in a romantic gesture but it would probably just serve to embarrass him. Besides, they’d already decided on Thai food that morning, assuming her cravings didn’t throw them a curve ball.

 

Instead he heads to the large box currently occupying the space beside their couch.

Its intimidating for a crib. Jughead has been avoiding tackling this particular project for weeks, much to Betty’s dismay. It’s just a very serious assertion to what they’re doing, having a _child._ The more real it becomes, the more he worries about something going wrong. He wasn’t kidding when he told Archie he’s living in a state of slight fear.

 

\--

 

An hour and a half later, Jughead is surprised with how he’s yet to fuck this up. He’s not a handyman by any stretch of the imagination, but he’s nearly done. There’s one screw left to attach, and then he just has to reinforce the bottom.

 

The sudden vision of Betty settling their new little human into the crib only for it to crumble beneath him flits through Jughead’s mind. _Alright,_ he thinks to himself, _that’s excessive._

Just as he’s triple checking everything, there’s a voice behind him.

 

“Hey there, Mr. Jones.” Betty’s leaning up against the wall, eyes sleepy but warm.

 

“Mrs. Jones,” he doesn’t even try to hide his appraisal of her body. “Fancy seeing you here.”

 

She moves towards him, offering a kiss to his cheek, before sitting on their couch. She looks for a long moment at the dark grain of the crib now residing in the middle of the room, before turning her gaze to him. He’s mildly alarmed when he sees the tears in her eyes, and moves to sit with her.

 

“Hey, Betts, it’s not that bad. Sure, that one leg is a little wonky but- “

 

She shoves his bare shoulder, “Shut up, you ass. I’m not crying because it’s _ugly._ I’m crying because I’m swimming in hormones and you’re _sweet,_ putting that together for our son _.”_

 

Jughead doesn’t really know what to say to that, so he deflects. “Well, someone had to finally build it. You already nixed the sleeping in the laundry basket idea.”

 

Betty kisses him chastely, and moves his hand to her exposed stomach. “Our son thanks you. He’s very excited to hear your voice; I think he missed you, Juggie.”

 

Now he’s the one getting a little choked up. Doesn’t matter how many times Betty says _our son_ or he feels those soft kicks, he’s floored. By this woman, by what their love made. She runs her fingers through his hair as he moves to lay so he’s level with the bump.

 

“Hey, buddy, I missed you too,” Jughead smiles up at her as they both feel the baby move in response to him. “Thanks for letting your mom get some sleep. Sorry I had to leave you; your Uncle Archie was having an existential crisis.”

 

“Jughead, he’s a fetus. He doesn’t know what an existential crisis is. Or an Uncle Archie.”

 

Rolling over so he’s on his back, head in her lap, Jughead smirks. “He’s _our_ fetus, Betts. He’s probably got a higher IQ than Archie does at this point.”

 

“Stop being mean, you’ll rub off on him.” Betty is trying to fight a grin. “Speaking of Archie, how’d that go? Should I be expecting a happy Veronica or an angry Veronica at dinner on Tuesday?”

 

With a sigh, Jughead says, “Honestly, that depends on Archie. I mean, we talked about it. Proposing, marriage, the works. He knows what he wants, he’s just scared of not being good enough for her. Which I get. Anyway, we talked it through, and I think I made him see he’s got all the things he needs to make it work. He’s just got to actually propose now. He didn’t tell me that plan.”

 

Betty hums, still playing with his hair. “Makes sense. What did you say exactly?”

 

“Let’s see, I told him it doesn’t matter how or when they get engaged, it’s about why they get married. I told him that it’s a lot of work, every day, but its more than worth it. I told him that they’re not their parent’s mistakes, and it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks as long as they know. I told him to love her and fight for her, and that he’s got all the makings of an ideal husband. And, of course, I told him about naked Sundays.”

 

Betty lets out a laugh at the last part, playing with his hair a bit. Jughead moves to stand and his wife gazes up at him. “What?”

 

“Just remembered something,” Jughead heads to the kitchen. “Wait there!”

 

“Where would I go…” She mumbles to no one, rubbing circles on her belly to try and calm the baby after Jug’s monologue. Betty looks up and does a double take when she hears Jughead return.

 

There stands her beautiful, creative husband with a shit-eating grin, looking sinful. In his left hand, he shakes a plastic cup full of something caramel in color, with excessive sharpie scribbles across the familiar logo. In his right hand, are the boxers he’d been wearing minutes ago, which he tosses brazenly to the floor.

 

She’s speechless, as he moves to set the cup on the coffee table. “Surprise!”

 

“Juggie, is that- “

 

“An iced decaf almond milk white chocolate macchiato with two pumps of raspberry and light ice? Yes. Sorry, it’s a little watered down, the ice melted some while you slept.”

 

Betty reaches out and takes a sip, appraising her naked husband. She licks her lips, the answer to her budding question apparent in front of her. “Jughead, is this turning you on? Watching me drink this ridiculous drink?”

 

He only quirks an eyebrow at her. Before him, she sets the drink down, and pulls her little t-shirt over her head. She stands to slide his boxers down her thighs. Her inhale is a little shaky as his eyes take her in, looking hungry.

 

“You’re a really great husband, Jug.” She presses her body against his, and moves them backwards to the armchair where he sits. Following into his lap, she whispers, “Thanks for the coffee, babe.”

 

Jughead can’t keep his mouth shut, even as he slides two fingers into her, already soaked. “That shit is _not_ coffee. But you’re welcome. Whatever keeps you happy.”

 

“You keep me happy.”

 

His heads a little fuzzy when she slips him out of his shorts and guides him inside her. Its slow and sweet, and so full of love. She tastes like fucking raspberries when he finally kisses her soundly, but he can’t even care.

 

\--

 

Not long after, Jughead is sprawled naked on their bed, waiting for Betty to finish cleaning up in the bathroom. On her bedside table, a familiar buzzing starts up.

 

“Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me.” He mutters but picks up the cellphone without looking at the ID. “Betty Jones’ phone.”

 

The sound that permeates the phone can only be made by one Veronica Lodge. “ _Jughead, where the hell is Betty?! This is major, I need-“_

“Yeah, alright,” Jughead has a feeling he knows what this is about. Just as Betty emerges from the bathroom (also still naked) he shakes the phone at her from arm’s length, despite Veronica still screeching through the receiver.

 

Betty presses the phone to her ear before her face lights up, “Oh, V, Archie proposed? Congrats, this is amazing! Tell me everything. And send a picture of the ring!”

 

Jughead grins at his wife as she reclines on the bed with one hand on her belly. _I made this happen,_ he mouths at her but she rolls her eyes at him. Needing a distraction, Jughead leans across her to grab the half empty cup.

 

As Betty prattles on about their best friend’s engagement, his own phone buzzes.

 

On the screen is a simple picture of a sizeable rock sitting on a manicured hand, which is held in a larger one. _Thanks brother,_ is all the caption says.

 

Sipping on the drink absentmindedly, he types back a congratulatory response with the promise of calling later. Caramel butts her head against his side, and he scratches at her orange fur.

 

Once Betty signs off with Veronica, she nods to the now empty cup on his nightstand. “Not so bad after all, huh?”

 

Jughead just pulls her in for a kiss, the taste of white chocolate on his tongue enough of an answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :-) :-) :-) Hope you liked it!! Check out the new chapter of 'the afterwords!' Till next time!!

**Author's Note:**

> SO? Hope you liked it. The timeline will jump around some, but all will fit into the little universe I've made. Some pieces will be multiple days and some will just be one moment, most all will be Jughead-centric, or Jughead-adjacent. I'm hoping to include some core four and archie&jug moments, because I love friendship, unlike the show writers.


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